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And so it begins. Again.

So here I am, digging a hole for my box. The box with my picture and that graveyard dirt. Waiting for the red eyed demon to come and make a deal for my soul.

Is that a little too Supernatural-y for you? Okay, lets just pretend the crossroads is metaphorical.

I know what I want. But I also know that what I want is so, so bad for me. I’m like a junkie, looking for my next fix. And I can picture how it’s going to play out because I have been here a thousand times before and I have lived through this exact same scenario more times that I can count. So why then, do I want to do this again?

I am working on convincing myself that this time it will be different. And maybe it will be. But maybe it won’t.

And before you start to question whether or not this is about Dan, let me help you with that. It’s not. But it just as easily could be. The feeling I have in the pit of my stomach is the exact same. The contagious smile that I have had on my face for the days is one that’s a little too familiar.